


like sin

by delicateloser



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut, mostly implied but little bits and pieces, will be more in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 00:18:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14296617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicateloser/pseuds/delicateloser
Summary: Eddie comes to Richie every time he and his boyfriend get into a fight.(inspired by the song 'like sin' by chase coy)





	like sin

**Author's Note:**

> more or less a teaser for the rest of the fic.

**I** t had been only an hour since Eddie had climbed into Richie’s window, his cheeks wet from overly dramatic tears.

It had taken Richie five minutes to cave. Another five minutes and Eddie had pushed his way onto his lap, straddling him, while Richie sat on the edge of his bed. Eddie’s breath was heavy on his neck between the messy, open-mouthed kisses he was pressing against his skin. Richie’s hands ran up his thighs to grope his ass in _those red shorts_ , pulling him closer with the leverage. They both knew full well what those shorts did to him.

And Richie knew he shouldn’t have let it get to him. Any of it. He shouldn’t have let him in the window, he shouldn’t have let him into his bed. Most importantly of all, he shouldn’t have let him into his heart.

They were just supposed to talk about things. But it never turned out that way.

And now here they were, an hour later, clothes strewn about the already messy room. Their bodies moving in time together like they were always meant to be like this, Richie’s grip hard enough to leave bruises on the smaller man’s hips, as he thrust into him. He was spurred on by Eddie’s breathy moans in his ear, and the feeling of his fingernails clawing their way up and down his back, clumsily trying to find somewhere to hold on.

It always felt natural. Like they were made for one another. Like it was _more_ than just Eddie talking his way into Richie’s bed, with a smile, a laugh, a flirtation. More even than Eddie practically staring him into submission when he wanted his way. Which Richie _always_ gave him. But he could have sworn there was more there. That he gave Eddie things no one else could, and that somewhere in there, the feelings he had for his friend were mutual.

Eddie sighed and arched off the bed beneath him, their chests pressing close in a way that made the taller man’s heart race; a soft and desperate sounding, “ _Richie_ ,” leaving his lips.

Richie should have known better. His name wasn’t the only that the other man called out like this. And every time Eddie and his boyfriend got into a fight and broke up, it was _Richie_ who he ran to. _Richie_ who’s bed he climbed into, who he _begged_ to be fucked by, and who gave him all the attention his boyfriend consistently failed to.

And Richie who got to watch him run right back to Bill when it was all over.


End file.
